


If Ever You Would Have Me

by kachek47



Category: Toriko (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Trans Male Character, UST, trans Komatsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:13:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6162223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kachek47/pseuds/kachek47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you realize the chef you met three hunts ago gets off on being in mortal peril, how exactly do you bring up that you wouldn't mind relieving that tension?</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Ever You Would Have Me

**Author's Note:**

> The world needs more trans Toriko characters. (Pleeease no transphobic comments as I'm trans myself!) Toriko is pan and Komatsu is bi in this one.
> 
>  
> 
> I might continue this?? Maybe. Maybe as a side project to the gigantic long fic I'm slowly slogging through writing. We'll see.

It happened just as Toriko had nearly drifted to sleep. It wasn’t the sound that caught his attention so much as the smell. The dying campfire between his and Komatsu’s sleeping bags masked some of it, which is probably why he hadn’t noticed earlier.

It was an animal smell, something deep and primal and half pheromone. The first thought that occurred to him was an animal in heat nearby and he tensed in his sleeping bag. Rutting season meant aggressive males. But no, it was softer, more human. More… Komatsu.

The hitch in the chef’s breath and following sigh confirmed it. Toriko nearly laughed, this was a hell of a place to jerk off, out in the middle of the wilderness with dangerous animals that could be attracted by the sound. But to his credit Komatsu was staying quiet enough. He supposed it was only natural. It had been three days after all, their longest trip together yet, any man with a healthy libido would be feeling it by now.

With a soft sigh of his own, Toriko settled again, resolving to ignore it. It wasn’t like Komatsu could sneak off into the bushes to take care of things like that, not with the average capture levels out here. Toriko wouldn’t fault him for it.

But as Komatsu’s breathing grew deeper and the smell of sex grew heavier in the air, something stuck in the back of Toriko’s mind like a popcorn kernel that had overstayed its welcome in his teeth. Annoyingly persistent and distracting. He’d smelled this before. Arousal smelled different for different people, He was certain he’d smelled Komatsu’s before, but where? When? Why hadn’t he noticed the first time?

Toriko searched his memory, back to the sour bite of anxiety he had smelled on the chef during their first meeting, the smell of ingredients and death and food that clung to him like it did to all chefs, the sharp bright tang of his fear as Toriko had snatched him by the collar out of the jaws of danger. There! Underneath that, masked by his fight or flight response. But that made no sense, why in the hell would…

Realization hit him like a truck and he opened his eyes to the night sky. Did he… Get off on that? There was no way. But no, it had been there, now that he thought about it it had been there almost every time Komatsu was in some kind of peril and had to be rescued. Holy shit. The guy had more balls than he thought.

Well, not really. Toriko had known of their absence the moment they met. Having a strong sense of smell meant finding out information most people considered private right away. There was no real way to turn it off out of modesty, but Toriko had never been too bothered by it. He had learned growing up what was appropriate to mention and what wasn’t, and Komatsu’s vagina was certainly none of his damn business. He’d introduced himself as a man, and that was that.

But now it was becoming his business. When he could smell the man’s arousal even through the campfire smoke that hung in the air, when his breathing was shaking with the effort of keeping it at least somewhat even, when Toriko could hear the faint movement of fabric under his sleeping bag. Toriko swallowed hard, shutting his eyes again in case Komatsu glanced over and knew he was awake.

What would it be like, being with him? Would Komatsu let him? Would he be offended at the thought? Toriko wouldn’t even begin to know how to breach the topic. Shame burned his cheeks and suddenly he was glad the light of the fire was dying, less light for Komatsu to potentially see him by. Less temptation for him to glance over himself. But what his eyesight lacked, his other senses made up for.

Komatsu was panting by now, and Toriko could smell the individual spike in his hormones that made his sleeping bag rustle, like he had arched his hips into his hand. He wasn’t there yet, but he was getting close. Mentally cursing, Toriko reached for his own half hard on, tucking it flat against the crease of his hip with one hand. His heart leapt in his throat when Komatsu stopped abruptly, waiting, and then continued quieter, holding his breath. 

This would be so much easier if they were both animals. ‘Hey you’re turned on and I can smell it, and you can smell that I am too, want to fuck and blow off some steam?’ But people weren’t like that. People were weird about sex. There were so many rules surrounding it, not everyone was alright with it being so casual, not everyone saw it as something to blow off sexual frustrations and have fun with someone, nothing more, unless it was meant to be. Komatsu struck him as the kind of guy to get sentimental about it, to only allow it after a couple dates. More boundaries, more reserved.

Komatsu came holding his breath, not with the bitter salt of semen, but with a deep musky smell that made Toriko’s mouth water on instinct. He finally relaxed, panting harshly as the smell of his arousal slowly ebbed. Toriko caught his lip between his teeth and squeezed at his dick pressed up against his hip. The moment was gone now, fading as Komatsu’s breathing evened into something more like sleep. Toriko didn’t dare sneak off to take care of his own problem, he couldn’t leave Komatsu by himself that long, and jumpy as he was, the chef would certainly hear it if he tried to pull the same stunt Komatsu just had.

Toriko took a few deep breaths, trying desperately to ignore the still clinging smell and to clear his head. Focus on something else, the cool smell of greenery, the burnt char of the fire, only embers now, the hum of crickets.

Maybe someday he would get up the guts to ask. Maybe if they were ever close enough for Komatsu’s tastes, however close that might be for him.

For now, Toriko sighed, accepted his blueballed fate, and fell into a fitful sleep.


End file.
